


Two Nights

by SpoonerizeSwiftness (SplickedyHat)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Mental Health Issues, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 06:56:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SplickedyHat/pseuds/SpoonerizeSwiftness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two nights ago her matesprit was clever, quick, light on his feet, unparalleled on a ‘board, trading barbs with Ampora and snarking through Vantas’s speeches.  <br/>Now she's dressing him, like a wriggler.<br/>Mitula, just post-incident.  For a drabble prompt on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Nights

Mituna doesn’t like the jumpsuit.

He doesn’t like a lot of things now.  Being alone, the dark, the light, having people touch his scars or look him in the eyes.  She’s combed his hair down over his eyes for him, and its soothed those weird seizure-jitters he seems to have whenever he tries to move or speak.  

Two nights ago her matesprit was clever, quick, light on his feet, unparalleled on a ‘board, trading barbs with Ampora and snarking through Vantas’s speeches.  

Two nights ago he woke up sobbing into her shoulder and held her for the rest of the day, asked her  _‘tula if I—if I burned out—and I could never come back—_ _would you still—?_   and she rubbed his back and his horns and murmured lullabies into his hair until he fell asleep again.

Two nights ago the entire planet shook and the sky was full of red and blue lightning.

Two days ago Kurloz carried his moirail’s body out of the crater he landed in, a burned, bleeding, spasming mess.

Aranea has been with him ever since, doing who-knows-what—but her medical knowledge has always been average at best.  She can only tell them what everyone already knew; Mituna Captor is broken, and there is nothing in their power that can put him back together.

So here she sits, and he whines and thrashes as she tries to slide the jumpsuit on, careful of the burns on the soles of his feet and arcing jaggedly over his legs—a flailing arm hits hers and he makes the most awful whimpering noise, like a grub in pain, and curls painfully around his battered hands.  He’s spewing random curses and uncontrollable sounds, and she hurts inside.  He worked so hard, training himself to talk evenly and clearly, he fought himself with every word and he was so proud when he could say her name without even a trace of a stutter, and now he doubles around her and curses incomprehensibly into her shoulder as she slips his hands through the sleeves.  

But he’s still so precious, he is still her gamer boy to her gamer girl and she still pities him so hard she thinks she’s going to die.  And when she closes the last zip and kisses away the wild tears on his cheeks he clings to her, and for a second she can almost pretend it’s like it used to be.

“ _—‘tula,_ ” he whimpers, and his voice is almost clear again.  ” _—don’t like—I don’t wwwanna be like this—”_

“I know, babe,” she murmurs back, and then he jerks and flails and swears and she has to let him go again, watching him stumble to his feet and stagger back to his bed to curl up with his back to her.  

“… _I know.”_


End file.
